Just Helping
by whatamidoingwithmylife28
Summary: Newt and Y/N have been traveling together for a long time, but he has never truly known her until now. When her shell finally breaks, he teaches her that she was never really alone.


**Author's Note: Hi, everyone! This is my first time publishing anything, so I really want to know if I am any good, or if my story is just an annoying piece of junk that everone wishes had never been written. I wrote this for myself after having a hard day and wishing I had someone like Newt to pick me back up again. Then I decided to share it with the world because I have always wondered how an impartial judge would respond to my writing. If one person writes a thoughtful review, I will keep posting chapters happily. If not, I will probably withdraw in shame and continue to write for myself and myself alone. I am open to any and all critiques. Believe me, there is nothing too harsh that you could have to say about my writing; I have said it all to myself before. Please Review!**

They had met at Hogwarts years ago, and even then Newt had realized there was something off about her. He liked her, though, and he never could figure out how to confront her about it. She was like a pendelum; one day she was the brilliant, vibrant Y/N he knew and loved, and then the next she was dull, hollow, barely there. It sometimes seemed as though she lost the ability to think, feel, or do anything. All she could manage was this thin mask of "fine-ness". He was the only one who could sense it, and if he pressed her, she would dismiss him with, "I'm just a bit tired." Then she would be fine again. Or so it seemed. At Hogwarts they saw each other every day, but when they left to travel together, Newt became even more aware of this strange block. She tried to cover it up, and it took him a while to be able to definitively sort out the fake smiles from the real ones. Sometimes he even wondered if she had a real smile.

He loved her so much, though. She was clever, kind, and loved the creatures at least as much as he did. It was as though she felt the pain or joy of every living thing she came into contact with, and all she wanted to do was help. He wished that she would stop hiding from him.

They were on a ship heading for Australia when he finally found out. Though they had a bunk room, they prefered to spend most of their time in the case. Y/N had her own study/bedroom, and she hadn't emerged all day. Newt was starting to get a bit worried, but he hated to invade her privacy. It wasn't as if this was the first time she had spent long hours alone in her room. She liked her space, and sometimes, she said, she just needed a bit of time alone. Newt imagined, maybe a touch bitterly, that it must be difficult to have to put up a front all day every day. He wished that she would just let him know her.

He forgot his worries for a while as he cared for his creatures, and then he forgot to check on her when a creative burst inspired him to work on his book for a couple of hours. It was nearly dark when he realized that he still hadn't seen her, and Newt finally decided to lure her out with some banal activity, just so he could have the reassurance of seeing her. He tapped on her door.

"Y/N," he murmered,"Could you come help me set up that fence for the nargles? They have finally built there nests."

There was no response. Now he was really becoming worried.

"Y/N, are you alright?"

He knocked harder. When he still heard nothing, he tried to open the door. To his surprise, it was locked. He pulled out his wand.

"Alohamora," he muttered, and quickly pushed it open.

To his surprise, the room appeared empty. He padded over to the cot in the corner. Her desk and bookcase had been moved in front of it, and half a dozed blankets and pillows had been piled on top. With some difficulty, he caught sight of her, curled up in a ball under the cot.

"Go away, please," she said simply.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing,"she replied

"What are you hiding from?"

"I'm not,"

"Not what?"

"Hiding."

"Can I come down there with you?"

She paused for a moment.

"Sure," she said finally.

Newt scooted the bookcase to the side, shuffled under the cot, and pulled it in again. He slid over beside her and rested his head against the wall. She still had her back to him, her face in the corner. It was more than a little cramped. He really didn't know what to do, so he turned to face her and put his arm around her. It really wasn't that comfortable here, on the hard floor, and he felt her stiffen when he touched her. Her skin felt like ice.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, "I'm just tired"

He gave a slight huff of amusement.

"You're cold,"

"I'm fine," she repeated tonelessly.

"Well, why don't you come be fine with me in the kitchen. I can make you some cocoa, and I would like to read you what I wrote for my book today."

Newt paused, and he heard Y/N let out a quiet, shuddering sob. That did it. He pulled away from her, and she flinched at the loss. Then he shuffled out from under the bed and pushed the bookcase and desk out of the way. He dragged the bed away from the wall and, as gently as he could, lifted her up off the ground. She didn't resist, but instead clung to him, silent tears streaming down her white face. He carried her into the kitchen and put her down on the worn-out sofa by the wood stove. Grabbing a quilt, he threw it over her, and he felt his chest clench at the silent tears of embarrasment that ran down her cheeks. He mixed some hot chocolate as quickly as he could and hurried back over.

By this point she had calmed down a bit, and her face was set in a blank, glazed-over look; face scarlet with mortification. He silently placed a mug in her hands and sat very close to her on the sofa. She sat very stifly beside him, as if she expected Newt to shout or storm away at any second. He did neither. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said softly.

"What?" she replied.

"I'm sorry that I didn't help you before; that I didn't notice anything."

"You did notice, Newt, but I wouldn't let you help. I thought that you would hate me..."

"Well that was silly of you," he chuckled, "I want to do anything I can to make things better for you, I just don't understand what I can do."

"Nothing," she replied, "But thank you for the hot chocolate."

She seemed to relax a little, and she leaned her head on Newt's shoulder. Her head ached terribly, and she felt sore and bruised from lying on the floor for however many hours. Slowly her eyes fell shut, and Newt carefully took the mug out of her hands and placed it on the ground. The niffler scampered over and started drinking it, and the only thing stopping Newt from chasing him away was fear of disturbing Y/N. Instead, he sent him his best "you had better not" look, which the niffler happily ignored.


End file.
